Fairy Tail: Shinigami

Chapter 215: The Lost Son.

If you want to read ahead go to /cornbringer

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[Adam C. POV.]

The bright lights of Karakura Town shone down upon the streets, casting an array of shadows against buildings and alleyways. As I strolled through, the cool breeze tugging at my hair, my thoughts were preoccupied with my earlier conversation with Yoruichi.

There was comfort in her words, but that didn't diminish the weight of longing in my heart.

"Since when I became this mopy…" I muttered, closing my eyes. Then again, who could blame me, it's been but a few months since I arrived.

That's when it happened.

Two reiatsus entered the vicinity. The force of their presence was so tangible, it felt like the very atmosphere had thickened, pushing down on my lungs.

It was a feeling I hadn't experienced in a while: excitement.

If my suspicions were correct.

This was the moment when Rukia was to be taken back to Soul Society, due to Urahara's and Aizen's game for the reality marble, whose name I can't pronounce.

A chain of events leading to her execution for transferring her powers to Ichigo.

The best option would be to leave things to play out as they should, that would be the smart choice, but… I was from Fairy Tail, so fuck being smart, and fuck Aizen and Urahara.

Whatever Urahara's plans for me were, letting an innocent girl be taken to her death wasn't something I'd allow, even if I knew she would survive. Decision taken, my feet started moving of their own accord, picking up speed as I felt the concentration of reiatsu grow stronger in one direction.

I was nearly there when a sharp pain exploded in my side. I gasped, clutching at the gash that now marred my torso, staining my clothes with my own blood. Staggering back, I tried to summon my reiatsu, to counteract whoever had done this, but there was nothing.

No distinct signature, no telltale reiatsu. Whoever it was had masked their presence impeccably.

I barely registered my knees hitting the ground, the pavement cold and unforgiving beneath me. The world spun, lights blurring as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.

The pain was unlike any I'd felt before; it wasn't just physical. There was a spiritual burn, something that felt like it was gnawing at my very core.

I gritted my teeth. "It will take a hell of a lot more than this to kill me!"

Pushing through the pain, I managed to prop myself up against a nearby wall. The streets were empty, the night now eerily silent save for the distant echo of the clash between Renji and Ichigo.

I sighed, focusing on healing myself as I wondered.

Who could've wanted to prevent my interference?

I hadn't done a thing to warrant being in the radar of anyone important yet, unless my existence was enough reason to warrant that.

Not only that, but whoever had attacked me, hadn't aimed to kill, only to incapacitate me.

It had to be Aizen, right?

As I pondered on this, a soft, familiar reiatsu approached. I didn't need to see to know who it was. Yoruichi, she rushed beside me, pressing her hands against my wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Who did this?," Yoruichi asked, a frown on her face.

"Shit if I know," I snorted. Aizen probably.

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[Third Person POV.]

[Sosuke Aizen.]

From the shadows of a rooftop, Aizen watched as the scene unfolded below. The moonlight glinted off his glasses, masking the true intent behind his eyes. There was a certain satisfaction in witnessing the results of his machinations.

'Interesting,' he mused, observing the young man who had suddenly appeared in Karakura Town. 'Adam. A being from another world, if Urahara's reports are to be believed.'

Aizen had monitored the newcomer closely, intrigued by the enigma the man presented. Adam's reiatsu was potent, but there was a distinctiveness about it that set him apart from other souls. A blend of familiar and foreign energies, intertwined in a complex dance.

The moment he'd felt the intention radiating from him to intervene in Rukia's capture, Aizen had made his decision. The cut was precise – enough to incapacitate, but not to kill. He'd ensured that Adam's reiatsu was disrupted enough to keep him from making any hasty moves. After all, his brash decision to intervene in Rukia's capture, though pathetically noble, could have caused unwarranted complications.

'It's fascinating how even everyone can be so predictable,' Aizen mused. 'Emotions. They make everyone vulnerable.'

He cast another glance at Yoruichi, who was tending to Adam's wounds. There was a connection between them, he noted. The feline Shinigami was always one to take strays under her wing.

He could exploit that.

'For now, the young man poses no threat,' Aizen pondered. 'But his presence here is not mere coincidence. Urahara wanted him to invertene to see my reaction, and that man always has a plan, meaning that if I want to win, I need to anticipate his every move, now more than ever.'

Adjusting his glasses, he took one last look at the scene below. 'Adam,' he thought. 'A puzzle. A variable in my grand design. It will be... entertaining to see how you fit into this.'

With a silent flash step, Aizen disappeared from the rooftop, leaving behind only the whispering winds of the night.

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[Third Person. POV.]

[Yhwach.]

In the grandiose hall of his palace, Yhwach sat atop his imposing throne, eyes narrowed as though peering through the veils of space and time. The air was heavy with an otherworldly stillness, and the silence was as deep as the abyss itself.

Arrayed before him were shadowy representations of the realms he had eyes upon—Hueco Mundo, Soul Society, and the world of the living. Karakura Town was no exception; it was, in fact, the focal point of his vision at the moment.

His eyes, so often vacant, held a spark of interest as he watched the unfolding events. The clash between Renji and Ichigo, the appearance of Byakuya, Rukia's forlorn expression; all were anticipated developments. Yet, it was the presence of Adam, the unfamiliar spiritual pressure, that drew a rare smile to his lips.

"The lost son returns," Yhwach murmured, a shadow of emotion crossing his normally stoic face. His voice was a blend of warmth and ice, a sound that could simultaneously comfort and chill the spine. "Welcome home, brother."

In that moment, the eyes that saw the future, that could glimpse endless possibilities, focused solely on Adam. His reiatsu was unlike any other; not Shinigami, not Hollow, and not Quincy, like Yhwach was the embodiment of the Quincy, Adam was the contrary, a being that defied categorization. Intriguingly, there was a resonance there, a note in Adam's spiritual pressure that echoed something deep within Yhwach's own essence.

"Your presence here is no accident, brother," Yhwach spoke softly, as though confiding in an old friend, despite the fact he was alone in the vast hall. "Fate has a way of bringing together those who are bound by ties stronger than mere blood."

A light, almost imperceptible chuckle escaped his lips. His fingers lightly tapped on the armrest of his throne, like a conductor contemplating the first notes of a symphony yet to be written.

"Ah, brother, you've stepped out of the shadows onto the grand stage at a most fortuitous time," he continued, "As pieces move into place, you'll find that some games have stakes higher than life or death. And in the end, even lost sons must choose a side."

Yhwach leaned back, his gaze drifting toward the abstract symbols that floated before him, each representing elements of his grand design.

"For now, let's see what role you choose to play," he whispered, a smirk forming on his lips, "After all, every tale could use an unexpected twist."

And with that, Yhwach's focus shifted, leaving Adam to navigate the treacherous currents of destiny. For in Yhwach's grand tapestry, every thread had its place, its purpose, and it was only a matter of time before Adam realized his own.